


Requiem

by GrandNinjaMasterRen



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Child Death, Child Murder, Child Neglect, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Eavesdropping, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Has Issues, Fake Character Death, Gen, Heartbreak, Heroism, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Mind Control, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Torture, Metahuman Tim Drake, Murder, Near Death Experiences, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Past Character Death, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Self-Sacrifice, Serious Injuries, Sibling Bonding, Spirits, Supernatural Elements, Tim Drake is Robin, Young Justice Season 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-08 08:48:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21233057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrandNinjaMasterRen/pseuds/GrandNinjaMasterRen
Summary: His feet don’t quite touch the ground, Tim notices. Bruce doesn’t acknowledge the boy’s words. It isn’t until he talks to the boy that he realizes it. The boy is a ghost. A shiver runs down Tim’s spine. “I see dead people?”





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

Tim fixed his eyes on the boy in the Robin costume sitting atop the Batmobile.

“Who's the new kid, old man?" The boy asked. Bruce didn't respond. Tim studied the boy. His dark hair was wild, tanned skin marred with oddly bloodless cuts. His uniform was ripped and his mask was missing a lens. The most striking feature, however, was the cuts on his face, from ear to ear, a bloodless, gruesome smile.

"Tim." Bruce barked. Tim focused on Bruce.

"Yeah?"

"What are you staring at?" Tim looked back at the boy, who was now staring directly at Tim as he paced back and forth. Tim's eyes followed the boy's movements. His feet didn't touch the ground, just hovered about two inches above it. The boy walked- floated? But with the mechanics of walking- up to Tim.

"What are you looking at?" The boy asked, snapping his fingers under Tim's nose. Tim recoiled.

"Wait. Can you see me?" The boy asked hopefully. Tim shrugged. Bruce turned to Tim.

"Focus." Bruce said sternly. Tim's eyes flicked between Bruce and the boy.

"He can't see or hear me, no one can," the boy said," Except you, I guess... I'm Jason, by the way." Tim walked over to Bruce, who was filling out some League report on the Batcomputer.

"How will we begin, sir?" Tim asked the man. Bruce responded by jerking his head towards the track, a winding path that laced its way around the cave.

"Run." He said simply. Tim obediently began to jog around the track.

"Run." Bruce repeated louder. Tim picked up the pace. Jason was laughing as he ran-hovered?- next to Tim.

"Come on, Timmy! Faster! Let's go!" Jason called. Tim ran on, turning corners, his view of Bruce disappearing. Tim slowed to a jog.

"What are you?" Tim panted. Jason's smile fell.

"I was Robin."

"I know that. I just... I mean... Are you a ghost?" Tim asked, slowing to a walk. Jason shrugged.

"I guess. I mean... I never really thought about it, but... I can't leave the cave. I can't touch things, can't be seen, can't be heard."

Tim ran faster as he approached the final turn that would bring him back to Bruce. Tim stopped in front of the man .

"Well? How'd I do, Boss?"

"You started slowing down." Bruce observed.

"I got distracted. Some of the things in this in this cave..." Tim trailed off. Jason laughed.

"Bats, rock formations, ghosts, and, of course, the guy in the cape with the really cool car." Tim had to bite his cheek to keep from laughing at the phantom's commentary.

"Your stealth skills are... Adequate." Bruce continued. Tim smirked proudly. Bruce narrowed his eyes.

"You'll need to work on stamina. We'll start on combat tomorrow." Tim nodded.

"As for now," Alfred broke in," I believe Mister Drake should be heading home to ready himself for the gala, I have no doubt he will be attending." Tim smiled apologetically.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Wayne. I can't come. I have," here Tim paused for a dramatic sigh, "Homework."

"It's summer." Bruce growled. Jason outright cackled, the cuts on his cheeks pulling apart slightly, allowing Tim to see flashes of bone-white molars. Tim shivered at the thought of the boy, not much older than himself, getting his cheeks split. Tim crossed his arms as he walked up the stairs, Jason trailing behind him. Tim pushed open the clock and walked through. Jason followed Tim outside. Tim looked up at the ghost, frowning.

"I thought you said you couldn't leave the cave?" Tim asked mildly. Jason froze and looked around.

"I'm out." He said disbelievingly. Tim grinned at Jason.

"So, what are you going to do with your new-found freedom?" Tim asked curiously. Jason froze. He visibly deflated.

"Yeah... I can't really do anything, ya know?," Jason said, "So, I'm just gonna hang around you."

"Why?" Tim asked, slightly concerned and mostly suspicious. Jason shrugged half-heartedly.

"It's more fun tormenting someone you can actually interact with." Tim rolled his eyes.

"Great... I went from 'ordinary kid' to 'haunted superhero-in-training' in less than an hour... Why is this my life?"

* * *

"Wow. These things are louder than I remember." Jason said from his place beside Tim. Tim gave the ghost-boy a sideways glance.

"What?" Jason asked defensively. Tim rolled his eyes. An older woman in a large hat approached the pair.

"Is that you, Little Timmy?" The woman asked peering at the boy from behind her thick spectacles.

"Yes, Mrs. Sullivan." Tim said respectfully. Jason frowned.

"You're being boring. I'm bored." Jason whined petulantly. Mrs. Sullivan patted Tim's cheek in a grandmotherly fashion.

"How are you doing in school?" She asked. Tim smiled, a touch nervously.

"It's summer." Tim corrected quietly. Jason laughed merrily. The ghost-boy walked behind the woman. He screwed up his face as he concentrated. Tim's eyes widened as Jason knocked over Mrs. Sullivan's hat. The hat hit the ground as Tim met Jason's triumphant gaze.

"I can touch things." Jason said in awe. Tim tilted his head. He knelt and picked up the hat and handed it to Mrs. Sullivan.

"I have to go ma'am; I see my mother." Tim excused himself hastily. The pair of boys made their way to the side of the ballroom.

"What the hell was that?" Tim growled softly.

"Awh! Come on," Jason said with an impish grin, white teeth flashing beneath split cheeks, "Don't pretend like you actually care what the old hag had to say."

"That's not the point, Jason." Tim caught sight of a familiar figure making its way toward him.

"Hello, Mr. Wayne." Tim said as he smiled blithely at the man.

"Tim! Glad you could make it. I hope you're not putting off homework for this." Jason cackled and Tim blushed.

"He's got you there, Timmy." Jason said between gasps of laughter.

"Of course not, Mr. Wayne; it's summer." Tim answered cheekily. Bruce's smile became more genuine and he chuckled. Jason's face suddenly became more pensive as Bruce clapped a hand on Tim's shoulder and moved along to talk to someone else.

"Jason," Tim whispered, " Don't." Jason just smiled mischievously. The phantom followed behind Bruce, reached forward and grabbed the man's wrist. Bruce jerked in surprise. He shivered as he looked around for who had grabbed him. Jason's hand phased through Bruce's wrist and returned to Tim's side. Tim was scandalized by the ghost-boy's behavior, but Jason was enjoying himself, laughing raucously. Tim brushed his hair from his face.

"Quit laughing," the boy growled quietly. The ghost by his side just laughed harder. Jason gasped for unneeded air.

"But, your face!" He howled. The ghost-boy's laughter slowly dwindled to light snickers. Tim leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes.

"Timothy." Tim' eyes opened. His mother had called his name. Janet was wearing her expensive, heavy, fur coat. It was time to go. Tim slunk to his mother's side.

"We're leaving. Never have I been more insulted." That was directed at an elderly gentleman who was looking at Janet, disgusted. Jason tilted his head.

"What happened?" Jason asked. Tim frowned as he followed his mother to their car.

* * *

Safely secreted away in Tim's room, the pair of boys, living and dead alike, were whispering quietly, as though to speak too loudly would summon their topic of conversation.

"Bruce has a League meeting tomorrow. You think he'll let you patrol with him after?" Jason asked. Tim shook his head.

"I haven't even started training with him for real. No way he'll let me out tomorrow. I don't even have a costume." Jason crossed his arms.

"Isn't it obvious? He's going to make you Robin." Tim flinched.

"But... You're..." he protested weakly. Jason scowled.

"Not anymore. I'm dead, remember?" Tim lowered his eyes.

"I don't want this. I never wanted this. I... I don't get much of a choice anymore, do I?" Tim whispered to himself. Jason's face softened a little.

"Yeah, he does that..." Jason said quietly. Tim scoffed.

"He pisses me off."

"He does that too." Jason said with a laugh, "But, just think, Timmy, you're gonna be a superhero." Tim rolled his eyes as he flopped down on his bed.

"My inner five-year-old is screaming for joy." Tim deadpanned. Jason chuckled.

"Go to sleep, kid. I'll see you in the morning." Tim rolled over.

"Technically, we're the same age." Tim mumbled into his pillow.


	2. Chapter 2

"You might want to get a deeper stretch," Jason said idly, "Bruce isn't going to let you rest for long."

"I know, Jason." Tim sighed, resigning himself to the ghost's concealed concern. Tim reached further, fingers brushing his toes. The gentle tap of shoes against stone was the hallmark of someone approaching Tim. He froze waiting for Bruce to round the corner.

"Good morning, Timmy!" Dick Grayson called. Tim heard a pained gasp of air from Jason.

Sparing the phantom a sideways glance, Tim moved forward to greet the enthusiastic hero.

"You're happy to see me all of a sudden." Tim noted, deceptively calm. Dick, for his part looked sheepish. He tugged on a strand of his longish hair.

"I... I wasn't being fair to you, Tim. I was lashing out and... I'm sorry." Jason stepped closer to his brother.

"Dicky..." Jason murmured longingly, "I'm sorry for leaving. My death... It wasn't your fault."

"It was my fault," Dick insisted, "Let me make it up to you. Let me train you." Tim swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. Jason closed his eyes regretfully and backed away from his brother.

"Yeah," Tim croaked, "Sure. When do we start?"

"Uh..? Now...?" Dick suggested, "I mean, if you want." Tim nodded.

* * *

Tim panted as he dodged Dick's next strike.

"Left cartwheel!" Jason shouted. Tim threw himself forward, knocking Dick off-balance just as he began his cartwheel. Dick hit the training mat hard. Tim, breathing heavily, smiled faintly.

"You're a quick study, Tim. I didn't think you'd be able to beat me with only four hours of instruction." Dick praised.

"You're predictable." Tim gasped out.

"You figured out my attack patterns?" Tim nodded, taking a step towards the young man, intending to help him up, but the moment Tim's foot hit the ground his knees gave out.

"Tim!" Both Dick and Jason shouted in concern.

"I'm sorry... Give me a second, n' I'll be fine." Tim mumbled softly, still breathing heavily.

Dick was at his side in an instant.

"Don't apologize. Everything's going to be okay. You're going to be fine." Dick fretted, stroking Tim's hair. Tim slowed his breathing, trying to get it under control.

"Bruce was right; you really do need to work on stamina." Jason observed. Dick scooped Tim up in his arms, carrying him to the infirmary. Tim squirmed, uncomfortable with the continued concern and affection.

"You have asthma." Jason said accusingly. Dick set Tim down on the hospital-style bed.

"You're okay. Come on. Breathe, Timmy. Where does it hurt? Oh, I'm sorry." Dick said.

"For the love of god, Dick! Shut. Up." Tim snapped. Dick recoiled, hurt and anger on his face.

"I'm sorry; I shouldn't have yelled," Tim apologized carefully. Dick smiled hesitantly. Tim's eyes met Jason's. The ghost-boy flicked his eyes back to Dick.

"Can you tell him for me?" Jason asked. Tim bit his lip.

"And Bruce too. Please, Tim." Jason nearly begged. Dick frowned, turning his head this way and that way, trying to find what held Tim's gaze.

"What are you looking at?" Dick asked curiously. Tim wet his lips nervously. He dragged his flinty eyes away from the spirit.

"I see Ja-just a crack in the wall," Tim said, changing his mind at the last minute.

"Tell him!" Jason shouted, "You have to tell him!" Jason slammed his hands against a nearby table. The table shook with the force, papers and pens toppling over. Dick hurried over to right the items. Jason grabbed Tim's arm roughly.

"TELL HIM!" Tim choked back a sob as he felt the pressure of both Jason's hand and his rage intensify.

"I can't." Tim whispered, too quietly for Dick to hear.


End file.
